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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558964">Night Is Young (And The Music's High)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl'>Sokkas_First_Fangirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Lay My Life Before You [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Brian, Alpha Roger Taylor (Queen), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta John Deacon, Christmas Party, Early Queen (Band), Freddie Mercury Weekend, Freddie Mercury is a little shit, Marijuana, Omega Freddie Mercury, Other, Partying, Platonic Relationships, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:28:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only to be expected that their party would receive a noise complaint. It was only expected, really, that the police would show up. Freddie was prepared to keep his head down and get this not so little lecture over with as quickly as possible.</p><p>But Freddie's not prepared to let another Alpha with an over-inflated ego put his hands on him.</p><p> </p><p>(Otherwise known as: the time Freddie gave a police officer weed.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Freddie Mercury &amp; Roger Taylor, John Deacon &amp; Brian May &amp; Freddie Mercury &amp; Roger Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Lay My Life Before You [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1256678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Night Is Young (And The Music's High)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on the prompt of Freddie giving weed to cops 😂 Or, in this case, just the one cop</p><p>So: drinking and some weed ahead, but nothing graphic honestly, it's just some fun. Shout-out to nastally for setting up this whole event!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>  </b>
</p><p><b>December 20th, London, 1970</b> <b><br/>
</b> <b> <em>“You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life, ooh, see that girl, watch that scene- digging the dancing queen! You're a teaser, you turn 'em on; leave them burning and then you're gone. Looking out for another, anyone will do, you're in the mood for a dance.” -Dancing Queen, </em> </b> <b>ABBA</b></p><p> </p><p>When Roger bounced into the flat and announced that they were throwing a party, Freddie was instantly interested. Truth be told, he hadn’t been to many. Clubs? Sure. Gigs? Plenty? A party in a friend’s house, let alone a home of his own? Not so much.</p><p> </p><p>He’d kept people at arm’s length since his arrival in England. Brian and Roger, and now John, were the first people he’d really...Well, <em> connected </em>with. He trusted them.</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be a send off,” Roger said cheerfully; they were moving into a new flat in January, one with enough room for Deacy to join them. It was, just like their flat now, dingy and cramped with hideous carpets and wallpaper and a nosy landlady. The only difference was the bedrooms were slightly bigger and the bathroom actually had a window.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Freddie was looking forward to it. He <em> liked </em>living with his friends, he was excited that Deacy was moving in. </p><p> </p><p>And fuck it all, they deserved a party.</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds fun, darling,” Freddie said. Brian didn’t look so enthusiastic.</p><p> </p><p>“When?” he asked, eyes narrowed, surly. “I’m heading home on the twenty-third.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow,” Roger said, having the grace to look sheepish. Deacy, seated across from Freddie, rolled his eyes; Brian drew himself up, clearly prepared to explode.</p><p> </p><p>Freddie jumped in.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never had a house party,” he said. Brian instantly softened. He had what Roger called his <em> Mum Face </em>on: gentle and concerned. Freddie felt a pang of guilt for inadvertently guilting Brian, but needs must and what not. </p><p> </p><p>Besides, Freddie would be alone here during Christmas while his friends went home, so sue him for wanting a fun send-off.</p><p> </p><p>A house party. A Christmas party. A party with his best friends. It seemed such a small, silly thing, but he suddenly wanted it desperately. One more thing he hadn’t gotten to try before, one more thing that never would have been allowed in Zanzibar; one more thing he hadn’t trusted people enough to even try until now.</p><p> </p><p>“So it’s settled,” Roger said, winking at him. “We’re having a party and Brian can stop being such a fucking grump.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am <em> not </em>a grump!”</p><p> </p><p>“You look like every grumpy professor I’ve ever had right now, mate.”</p><p> </p><p>Brian, without a word and a big beaming smile, kicked Roger off the sofa.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>It wasn’t that Freddie had no social life before now, or so he firmly told himself. It was that whenever he got close to people, they tended to speak over him, order him around, touch him without permission and expect him to get on his knees. It seemed like every time he dared to trust a new group of people, they inevitably expected a doll. So when he <em> did </em>find people who treated Omegas equally, he was too wary to believe it.</p><p> </p><p>It had been safer to keep to himself. It was much less hassle to simply keep people at arm’s length, to not really let them in. </p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t really expected to be <em> friends </em>with Roger and Brian. He’d admired them, certainly, and he believed them when they said they wanted to work with him, no strings attached- but he thought that would be it. Just a work relationship.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t expected to click right away; add John into the mix and everything felt <em> right. </em>It seemed like things were finally working out.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps it was silly of him, childish even, to want a party so much, but there you go. For once, he trusted his friends to help if someone put their hands on him, not laugh at him or snap at him. </p><p> </p><p>He wanted a party, he wanted a group together, he wanted to have fun with his friends before they went home.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p><b>December 21st, 1970</b> <b> <em><br/>
</em> </b> <b> <em>“I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity. I'm a racing car passing by, like Lady Godiva; I'm gonna go, go, go, there's no stopping me! I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit!” -Don’t Stop Me Now, </em> </b> <b>Queen</b></p><p> </p><p>Freddie thought he looked pretty damn good, thank you very much. He’d had to practically wrestle Brian for the straightener and he could admit he’d left the two Alphas waiting ages for the bathroom, but the result was well worth it; not a hair out of place, eyeliner sharply winged, wearing his best black shirt and satin pants, and a silver chain he’d “borrowed” from Roger.</p><p> </p><p>Roger wolf whistled as Freddie passed, grinning when Freddie slapped him on the arm. </p><p> </p><p>“Down boy,” Brian chided lightly, pouring himself a drink. He still looked suspicious when he asked, “You <em> swear </em>you didn’t invite too many people? There’s no space in here as it is.” It was true, Freddie could easily admit that; he, Brian, Deacy and Rogere were crammed together in the kitchen, knocking into each other and into the small table and old chairs.</p><p> </p><p>“I swear,” Roger said, for perhaps the fifth or sixth time. He folded his arms, huffing indignantly. “Come on, Brian, have<em> some </em> faith in me.”</p><p> </p><p>About five minutes later however, their flat was absolutely jam packed with people, many of whom Freddie didn’t even recognise.</p><p> </p><p>“A few,” Brian hissed, shaking Roger roughly. “A <em> few </em>people, you said! You call this a few!”</p><p> </p><p>“People must have invited their friends!” Roger snapped. “Fuck’s sake, Brian, we’re <em> fine. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to get noise complaints again,” Brian said, looking around mournfully. Nobody had spilled or broken anything yet, but it was surely only a matter of time. Deacy was bobbing in place to the music, but he looked slightly thrown by the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>Freddie, excited as he had been, had to admit he could barely move, or even hear himself think over all the noise. They were blasting nothing but Christmas music, and he didn’t doubt their grouchy old neighbours, who had never liked their presence, were gearing up to complain.</p><p> </p><p>He wondered if they’d even hear the inevitable angry shouts and knocking over all the noise, and quickly decided to not worry about it. Their neighbours, a middle-aged couple, had always been dreadfully nosy and rude, demanding to know why Freddie was living with Brian and Roger.</p><p> </p><p>“A respectable Omega should be living with their parents,” the woman had once said, her nose in the air. She’d bumped into Freddie on the stairs and had taken it upon herself to ‘advise’ him. </p><p> </p><p>“Is there a such thing as respectable Omegas?” her husband had laughed from behind her.</p><p> </p><p>Their smiles had died when Freddie coldly said, “I’m an orphan, actually.”</p><p> </p><p>They always looked faintly embarrassed when they ran into Freddie after that, but their pointed comments about respect and noise had never stopped; they complained about everything from their footsteps to Roger’s hair length.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck it. He <em> hoped </em>they were bitching together about their disrespect. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to get a drink,” Freddie said, shaking his head in amusement as Roger and Brian continued to snip and grouch at each other. Deacy, Freddie noted with a smile, had been approached by a small Beta girl with long blonde hair in a ponytail.</p><p> </p><p>Freddie caught Deacy’s wide eyes and winked at him, sashaying away to the kitchen, dodging through the crowd with expert ease. Working in the pub had taught him something after all.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Three drinks in and Freddie was having a blast. Certainly, he knew almost none of these people, but what did that matter? He could laugh and chat and flirt as much as he wanted, and he knew he had his friends watching out for him. This was his flat, his home, as ugly and small as it was; his safe space.</p><p> </p><p>The band was his safe space. So although the flat was absolutely packed, although the noise was obnoxiously deafening, although the air reeked of booze and weed, Freddie was having the time of his life.</p><p> </p><p>Giggling, well past tipsy, Freddie fell into Roger’s arms.</p><p> </p><p>“Having fun mate?” Roger asked, grinning at him. He automatically wrapped an arm around Freddie’s waist, pulling him in closer. He held the stub of a joint in his free hand.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Four </em> men have given me their numbers!” Freddie informed him cheerfully. With some difficulty, he pulled the little pieces of paper and tissue from his back pocket and waved them in Roger’s face, grinning without hiding his teeth. “See, darling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oooh!” Roger waggled his eyebrows and, before Freddie could protest, snatched the numbers from him. “Well let me just see if I approve of any of these saps, shall we?”</p><p> </p><p>“Roggie!” Freddie groped for the paper, giggling more than ever. Roger examined each one with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a caricature of the typical disapproving father. God help them, he looked like <em> Brian. </em></p><p> </p><p>Once that thought hit, Freddie was cackling.</p><p> </p><p>“You- you look <em> so much </em> like Bri, darling!”</p><p> </p><p>Roger snorted, swaying slightly as Freddie leaned further against him.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely none of them are good enough,” Roger said with a mocking pout, giving Freddie what he must have thought was a serious, disapproving frown. “I don’t approve of any of ‘em.”</p><p> </p><p>“Give them back,” Freddie said, snatching them now that Roger wasn’t wriggling away from him. Roger grinned at him, running a hand through his already tangled hair, leaning back against the wall. </p><p> </p><p>“Promise you’re having fun?” he asked. “You’re not, like- anxious or-”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m having fun,” Freddie said, smiling. He put the phone numbers back into his pocket. “Surprised no one’s fallen out the window yet though, it’s that packed.”</p><p> </p><p>“The night’s young, Fred, give it a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm, the night’s young,” Freddie agreed. With a wicked little smile he added, “How many more numbers do you think I can get?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dozens,” Roger said. He finally gave up on the tiny tub and tossed it away; it was quickly trampled by the people dancing in front of them. “So…” His tone was suddenly much more serious. “You’re coming to Cornwall with me, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, darling?”</p><p> </p><p>“For Christmas. Come on, Fred, I’m not leaving you here on your own.”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, Freddie wasn’t quite sure he’d heard correctly. “I’ll be fine, darling,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, I still don’t wanna leave you on your own.” Roger frowned uncomfortably, but he didn’t let go of Freddie. “It’s not right,” he added. “It’s Christmas, okay? You shouldn’t be on your own.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been alone on Christmas before, darling,” Freddie pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t make it any better. Just- think about it, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>Smiling, Freddie said he’d think about it. Honestly, he planned on sticking to his guns and staying home- he could hardly impose on Roger and his family- but God was it tempting.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re sweet, Roggie,” he said. Quickly changing the subject, he looked around the room with exaggerated curiosity. “So is there <em> anyone </em> here you approve of?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hardly,” Roger snorted, but he was grinning. </p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Freddie hadn’t gotten a good look at the clock, but it must have been around eleven when there was a sudden pounding on the front door. Freddie was pressed against the wall, right by the door, by a frankly <em> gorgeous </em>Beta with curling brown hair, but when the furious knocking started, they sprung apart, startled.</p><p> </p><p>“What the-?” They were hardly expecting anyone else, surely? Before Freddie could make a move, a girl, giggling hysterically, opened the door and her smile immediately dropped when she saw the two police officers standing there.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh bollocks,” Freddie whispered to himself. The music abruptly stopped- Freddie saw Deacy unplug the record player- and as the realisation that the police were present swept through the room, everyone slowly fell silent.</p><p> </p><p>They were both Alphas, both tall and broad shouldered, but there was an obvious age-gap; one seemed to be in his forties, the other in his late twenties.</p><p> </p><p>“Seems we’ve had a noise complaint,” the elder said, eyes narrowed. He gestured impatiently into the hall. “Anyone who doesn’t live here, scram.”</p><p> </p><p>Freddie didn’t think a roomful of drunk college students could move so quickly. They all ran for it, tripping over each other, muttering hasty apologies or mumbling that it wasn’t their fault really, they were just having one. He thought he heard someone mutter “Fucking bobbies,” but couldn’t be sure.</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, it was just Freddie, Roger, Brian and Deacy. Brian had paled drastically and if Freddie knew his friend at all, he knew Brian was expecting the very worst of the worst. Roger swallowed heavily, but his posture was carefully nonchalant, slouching just a little bit, his hands in his pockets. Deacy looked even more frightened than Brian, edging closer to Freddie.</p><p> </p><p>Freddie had to physically restrain himself from taking Deacy’s hand, to comfort himself as much as Deacy. It wasn’t like he expected to be arrested, not over a fucking <em> noise complaint, </em> but they looked <em> pissed. </em>He doubted they could chat and charm their way out of this one. </p><p> </p><p>Freddie knew what people looked like when they were gearing for a fight and the younger officer at least, looked prepared for trouble. </p><p><br/>
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</p><p><b> <em>“No, but what was I meant to do? Sorry not sorry 'bout what I said, I'm just tryna have some fun. Don't worry, don't worry, don't lose your head! I didn't mean to hurt anyone. L-O-L, say ‘Oh well!’ or go to hell!” -Don’t Lose Ur Head, </em> </b> <b>Six: The Musical</b></p><p> </p><p>The flat was a wreck. Freddie could see beer spilled on the floor, some broken glasses, empty plates and glasses everywhere, bits of food ground into the carpet. Their Christmas decorations were askew, tossed about, some had been pulled off the walls, baubles were missing from their minuscule tree. He was just glad there was no weed visible anywhere.</p><p> </p><p>“So you two live here?” the elder officer, who had introduced himself as Edward. Freddie and his boys sat on the sofa, the officers had taken an armchair each.</p><p> </p><p>“We do,” Brian said, his voice a mortified whisper. He was clearly making an effort to sit up straight and look the officers in the eye, as befit an Alpha, but he kept looking away, cheeks flaming. Roger slouched in his seat, nervously tapping his fingers against his leg.</p><p> </p><p>The younger officer’s eyes narrowed on Freddie. He hadn’t introduced himself.</p><p> </p><p>“And who’s the Omega?” he demanded, ignoring Deacy entirely.</p><p> </p><p>“Our roommate,” Roger said, sitting up straighter, instantly defensive. </p><p> </p><p>“Your roommate,” the officer repeated in disbelief. He shook his head, scoffing. “Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“Harry,” Edward muttered in warning. He smiled at them, but it was cold; his eyes were still narrowed in disapproval. “So lads, I don’t suppose you realise how loud you were being? Your neighbours were furious; you need to respect the other residents.”</p><p> </p><p>Freddie might have known it was them. However, for once, he couldn’t even blame them. </p><p> </p><p>Still. It was the <em> police.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Parties like that can get out of hand,” Harry said coldly. “You’re lucky no one was hurt. Drinking irresponsibly, so many people in one small space-”</p><p> </p><p>“It was just a Christmas party!” Roger said indignantly. Deacy hunched over further, biting his lip.</p><p> </p><p>“Be that as it may, you were greatly disturbing the other residents,” Harry said. “And I must say, you don’t seem very apologetic, son.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Son. </em> Freddie had to bite back the mad urge to laugh. Harry couldn’t have been much older than him for God’s sake. <em> Son! </em>But perhaps that was the point, because Roger looked angrier and more indignant than ever, close to snarling and just barely holding back. </p><p> </p><p>They couldn’t afford for Roger to do something stupid.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re dreadfully sorry,” Freddie said quickly. He lowered his head slightly, smiling at them through his eyelashes. “I suppose things got a little out of hand…”</p><p> </p><p>“Were you involved?” Harry demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“He was mostly in his room,” Roger cut in, lying with ease. “Look, the party was <em> my </em>idea, alright? It wasn’t anything to do with the others.”</p><p> </p><p>“His room, huh?” Harry looked Freddie over; his eyes lingered on Freddie’s tight pants and he chuckled. “Doing some entertainment, Omega?”</p><p> </p><p><em> “Oi!” </em> Roger was on his feet, Brian was openly snarling and Deacy’s eyes flashed, growling quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Harry,” Edward said tiredly. “Leave the lad be.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s an honest question,” Harry said. “You can never be sure with Omegas.” There was a moment’s doubt on Edward’s face, his gaze critical as he turned to Freddie.</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, Freddie was stricken. Mortified. Were they seriously implying he was some sort of prostitute? Or, what, that Roger and Brian were pimping him out, selling him? </p><p> </p><p>That he was just a toy. Some entertainment. He could feel himself going red with embarrassment and anger.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fuck. That. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Freddie had been hoping to keep his head down; to smile and play nice, and end this discussion as quickly as possible. Now? Now he was pissed.</p><p> </p><p>He could understand the noise complaint. He could understand why Edward and Harry were impatient with a bunch of college kids, who had all clearly been drinking and they no doubt at least <em> suspected </em>drugs.</p><p> </p><p>But this? He didn’t have to take this.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he said stiffly, because they were both still staring at him, expecting an answer.</p><p> </p><p>Edward nodded, turning back to Roger and Brian, but Harry kept staring at him, that awful, smug little smile on his face. </p><p> </p><p>Freddie took a deep breath and forced himself to smile.</p><p> </p><p>“How about I pop the kettle on?” he offered, standing up. He just needed to get out of Harry’s line of sight, he didn’t want this man leering at him anymore. His good mood was gone, his tentative hope they could get this over with quickly was dashed.</p><p> </p><p>“Good idea,” Brian said. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s a good Omega,” Harry laughed. As Freddie passed him, he reached out, lightly patting his hip. Roger openly growled, fists clenched. He only sat down again when Freddie looked at him and minutely shook his head.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p><em> Not worth it, </em> Freddie reminded himself, pacing as the kettle boiled. <em> It’s not worth it, calm down. </em></p><p> </p><p>But for <em> fuck’s sake, </em>they’d been having fun. It had been a good night and now, not only were the police here, but they seemed to be settling in for a long lecture, and he had to endure another entitled Alpha leering at him, putting his hands where they weren’t wanted.</p><p> </p><p>As Freddie grabbed the tea bags, he accidentally dislodged a little bag from the back of the small cupboard.</p><p> </p><p>Roger’s weed. He often left it by the tea. Freddie and Deacy had accidentally made tea with it once and drank it, only to panic when they ended up high with no idea why they felt that way.</p><p> </p><p><em> Don’t, </em> Freddie told himself, even as he grabbed the bag. <em> Don’t… </em></p><p> </p><p>He scooped a spoonful of it into one of the cups, stirring vigorously until he was sure it wouldn’t be noticeable, and spooned sugar in on top of it, stirring so hard some of it splashed across the counter.</p><p> </p><p>There was a moment, as he set it all out on a tray, that he wondered about pouring that cup down the sink and starting again, making a normal one.</p><p> </p><p>Only a moment. He brought it all back into the living room, his head held high.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>He handed Harry his cup personally, batting his eyelashes. Harry took it with a grin and Freddie dodged his patting hand this time, sitting with exaggerated elegance, primly crossing his legs as he fiddled about, serving everyone tea.</p><p> </p><p>“Cheers, lad,” Edward said, sipping his tea. “Now, as we were saying…”</p><p> </p><p>Freddie didn’t listen. He sipped at his tea, occasionally glancing at Harry. The Alpha drank his tea, throwing in comments about <em> respecting the residence </em> and <em> consequences, </em> and <em> irresponsibility. </em>Essentially the same lecture Edward was already giving, but with a lot more hostility.</p><p> </p><p>But as the lecture wore on, Harry got quieter. He blinked heavily, frowning, clenching and unclenching his jaw, flexing his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Harry?” Edward asked, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>“Hm…” Harry shook his head. His eyes were beginning to look glassy. Freddie smiled sweetly.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it hot in here?” Harry asked, clenching his jaw again.</p><p> </p><p>“No…” Edward eyed him with concern. He shook his head, sighing and stood up. “We’d best be going,” he said. It took Harry a moment to stand properly; it wasn’t that his limbs seemed weak or shaky, but he was <em> slow. </em>Almost sleepy.</p><p> </p><p>Deacy looked as concerned as Edward; Brian and Roger just looked baffled.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t want any more noise complaints,” Edward said sternly, looking at the four of them. “Not a peep, understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Brian said with a quick nod. Edward looked a little doubtful, but another concerned glance at Harry showed it would be a better idea to leave than to stay and lecture them. Sighing, Edward hustled Harry out. To be fair to him, he paused to wish them a good night and thanked them for the tea.</p><p> </p><p>“Merry Christmas, sir,” Freddie said sweetly.</p><p> </p><p>Roger was noticeably relieved to shut the door behind them. “Fucking hell,” he breathed. “Did that just happen?”</p><p> </p><p>“It could have been worse,” Brian said, running his hands through his hair and tugging agitatedly. </p><p> </p><p>“Wonder what was wrong with Harry?” Deacy asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah…” Roger’s frown deepened; there was a flash of understanding in his eyes and he turned to Freddie. “Alright Fred,” he said, folding his arms. “What did you do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, dear,” Freddie said. They were all looking at him doubtfully now. </p><p> </p><p>“Fred,” Brian said slowly, sternly. “What did you do?”</p><p> </p><p>Grinning, Freddie reached into his back pocket, where he’d stored all the numbers he’d been given- as well as storing something else.</p><p> </p><p>He showed them the little bag of weed, waving it like a flag.</p><p> </p><p>“I just thought that Harry might like a little <em> party favour, </em> ” he said brightly. “Since I’m such a <em> good Omega. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Freddie Bulsara!” Brian cried. Despite his obvious horror, he burst out laughing. Deacy was gaping at him, but even their normally impassive bassist couldn’t mask the unholy glee in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Roger, cackling, scooped Freddie up into his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“You little shit!” he laughed. “That could have gone tits up!”</p><p> </p><p>“But it didn’t,” Freddie said, laughing himself now.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe you did that,” Deacy said.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I </em> can,” Roger said, releasing Freddie. “You’re a reckless bastard sometimes, you know that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh like <em> you </em> can judge, darling.”</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>It was a nightmare cleaning the flat, but they had to do it. Freddie and Roger were assigned to the kitchen (“A fire hazard waiting to happen,” Deacy said), and Freddie put Roger’s weed back in it’s so-called hiding place.</p><p> </p><p>“Hope you don’t mind that I used your weed for evil, Rog,” Freddie said as he scrubbed at the sticky counter-top. </p><p> </p><p>“It was for the greater good, I’d say,” Roger said; he looked positively gleeful. “So- Christmas at my house? Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>Freddie’s mischievous grin softened into something smaller, shyer.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” he said. “I’d like that, darling.”</p><p> </p><p>Roger’s face lit up with delight and he was soon humming more Christmas tunes to himself as they cleaned. “Better not tell my mum about this,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God no, darling, I want her to like me.”</p><p><br/>
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<b> <em>“A Revenge Party: a party that ends with somebody's head on a spike! (Woah, woah, woah!) It's a Revenge Party with your two best friends; it's like a party with revenge is what it's like!” -Revenge Party, </em> </b> <b>Mean Girls: The Musical</b></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hopefully I can get more Freddie-centric writing done this weekend! Hope you guys enjoyed 💕</p><p>For anyone not familiar with the series: Freddie says he's an orphan as, at this point, they assume the Bulsaras to be dead. It's been mentioned before in the series that Freddie has spent Christmas at Roger's house, so this is the lead-up to it</p></blockquote></div></div>
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